"I ask you this after much calm deliberation," he said, slowly. "Be my wife in reality as well as in name, and we may yet make good and useful lives out of what is left of them!"
He heard a cry escape from her lips, but he could not tell whether it was one of pleasure or pain.
"I do not ask you to give my answer at once, unless you choose to do so," he said, gently.
He bent over her and took her hand. He was startled at its icy coldness. He could feel that she trembled at his touch.
"I have startled you," he said, gently. "I would advise you to go to your room, instead of mingling with the guests to-night. There you can reflect upon what you wish to do. I will leave you here," he said. But before he turned away, he involuntarily stooped down, and kissed the white face raised so appealingly to his.
It was the first caress he had ever offered her, and that kiss burned her face for long hours afterward. It filled her to the very depth of her soul, to the very center of her heart.
Like one stricken suddenly blind, Ida groped her way to her room.
"Ah! if I could only die with the memory of that kiss burning my lips!" she cried.
She was like one stunned. What she had longed for, yearned for with all the intensity of her soul, was laid at her feet at last. But it was too late.
His love was offered her now, when she dared not claim it, dared not accept it.
Ida rose the next morning with a heavy heart. She had slept the sleep of exhaustion.
Eugene was surprised when she came down to the table, she looked so changed. There were heavy circles under her eyes, as though she had been weeping.
He could not understand her. He was quite sure she would meet him with a happy, blushing face and downcast eyes. Ida would be glad when she could escape his wondering eyes. An hour later she was standing at the window of the morning-room, which opened out on the terrace, her mind in a tumult, when she heard Eugene's voice at the other end of the room. She knew instinctively that he was looking for her. Only two days ago she would have waited there for him--would have eagerly sought the opportunity of a few words with him; but now she hastily unfastened the long French window, and fled out into the grounds.